


Dress that Dad!

by Airie



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Crossdressing, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pegging, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2018-12-20 12:19:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11920779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Airie/pseuds/Airie
Summary: You know that feeling when you come home late from work and find out your boyfriend is into crossdressing? No? Well, Damien now knows. And he does not mind.





	1. Chapter 1

"Simpletons!" Damien sighed, getting in his car. "Hopeless fools!" 

Sinking into the driver seat, he let out an exhausted groan. He and his boyfriend planned a nice, romantic evening for tonight, but he had to cancel last moment to do overtime. One of the higher-ups in the company was stupid enough to open an email with an external link and, well… Damien knew undoing the damage will be time (and energy) consuming, but did not account for how hopeless some people were with computers.

He flipped through his phone to check if his partner responded to his last text. He smiled, finding that Vincent indeed replied.

D [5:00pm]: I need to do overtime. Can we move our night to tomorrow?

V [5:03pm]: they making u work longer on a friday??

D [5:22pm]: Someone upstairs fell for a self-forwarding phish. I'll be lucky if I'm back before midnight. Don't wait up. I'll try not to wake you up.

V [5:26pm]: i have no idea what a phish is but im guessing its serious. drive safe. 

No update since then. It was pretty late - the clock on Damien's phone was displaying 10:15pm. For a moment he mused if he should head straight for his own house, but scratched the idea. Lucien was away for the weekend, and he really wanted to fall asleep next to his boyfriend. Tuning the radio to some light ambience, he drove off from the empty parking lot.

\---

After a cautious 40 minute drive Damien was back at the cul-de-sac. Quietly, like a ghost, he drove past the sleepy houses and parked at Vincent's. Strange, the lights were on… Did Vincent stay up after all? Maybe he was working on an outfit for a client. His job as a tailor/leatherworker demanded he occasionally worked late to meet strict deadlines. Regardless, Damien was glad to have a chance to speak to him before heading to bed. Especially after cancelling an evening together at such a short notice.

"A shower, a late night supper and off to bed to cuddle. That is all my heart desires." Damien mused, unlocking the front door and stepping into Vincent's homely living room. 

Something… was not right. Vincent was nowhere to be found, the TV was off just like the sewing machine in the corner. There was faint music coming from somewhere deeper in the house. Was that… Q Lazarus? And that strange smell, just a bare hint of… perfume? Not cologne or aftershave, perfume. A heavy, oriental note. No doubt a woman's brand. 

"Someone's here. With Vincent. While you're supposed to be at work." A tiny voice of doubt sang in Damien's ear.

Preposterous! Vincent would never… were those pantyhose on the couch?

"Oh, no." A faded sigh escaped his lips as he took a step towards the couch to identify the mystery item. Those weren't pantyhose, but a pair of stockings. Tan nylons with a seam at the back. The type that movie femme fatales wore in the golden age of Hollywood.

No, no, no… There was no need to jump to conclusions. Vincent was a tailor. An artisan. He worked with clothing on a daily basis. Perhaps these were part of a project? There was no evidence to support Damien's suspicion that his partner was cheating on him. No body, no crime… right? All he had to do was find a body, one body, to dispel his doubts. Then he will have a good laugh at his insecurities and forget them the next morning.

Apprehensive, but with a strong sense of purpose he headed for Vincent's bedroom, halting inches before the door. The music was definitely coming from behind them, mixed with another sound. Primitive, lustful groaning that could only accompany sexual congress.

The realization that it was all over washed over Damien like a cold, crushing wave. With it came a shot of numbness he had to take advantage of before he completely falls apart. He would much rather reduce to a weeping mess at his own household. He took a step back and turned around, ready to leave and cut Vincent out of his life, but in his deadened state he stumbled, hitting his elbow on the wall, hissing in pain.

The lewd serenade and music stopped immediately, followed by a moment of tense silence.

"… Dames?" Vincent asked from behind the door, his panicked tone betraying he was caught red handed.

"No need to come out, Vincent. I didn't meant to disturb you two. I'll leave the keys on the counter. Delete my number." Damien hoped he could keep his voice calm, but it shook at the end of the sentence.

"What? Oh shit! Damien, it's not…!" Vincent called out, but there was nothing he could say to make him stay.

Just like he said, Damien marched towards the front door, slamming the keys to the house maybe a little too hard on the kitchen counter. Meanwhile, the bedroom door swung open, the sound of the doorknob hitting the wall made his shoulders jump.

"Wait!"

He didn't respond, halfway through the living room with his now ex-boyfriend following, the clacking sound of stilettos ringing on the hardwood floors. Wait, stilettos?

Flabbergasted, Damien looked over his shoulder. Clad in a fluffy bathrobe stood Vincent. His long legs were stretching from underneath the robe, wrapped in elegant smoky nylons and sleek tan platforms. The offending smell of woman's perfume was radiating from him.

"I've been meaning to tell you… eventually." He breathed, red under his aggressive vampy makeup. "I… uhh…" He paused, unable to find the correct words to state the obvious, so he just opened his robe, so his boyfriend could see for himself

"Oh my… You're a crossdresser." Damien stated for him, plopping on the couch in a state of utter confusion… and great relief.

"Yea." Vincent confessed, wrapping himself in the fluffy safety of the bathrobe.

"Oh… Thank goodness!"


	2. Chapter 2

They sat in awkward silence. The host was trying to figure out the best way explain. Damien was mentally scolding himself for jumping to conclusions so fast. Though, most people in his place would have done the same. Probably with a lot more drama.

"Oh, these…" Vincent made a face, finding he was sitting on the accursed tan nylons. He pulled them from under himself, rolled in a ball and tossed into the laundry basket on the other side of the room. "Completely forgot about them when I was trying on different pairs. I got careless since Amanda moved out…" He paused abruptly, still not sure where to begin.

Damien said nothing, waiting patiently. He learned with Lucien that in delicate moments like these pushing the subject was not a good idea. Vincent had to come forth on his own accord.

His boyfriend was cute when he was this flustered, the red of his cheeks truly brought out the pale blue of his eyes. And he really dolled himself out. Damien especially liked the way he put his hair up in a classic, yet sexy auburn updo. He'll have to ask for pointers later.

"So… My name is Vincent Kavinsky and I'm a pervert." He began, but did not pull through with the joke seeing Damien's eyebrows rise critically. "No? Ok, I'll be serious." He took a deep breath. "The first time I saw Blade Runner… That scene when Deckard meets Rachael… It changed me."

"It is a good movie."

"Dames," he paused to take his boyfriends hands into his, "It woke something inside me." He said with fire, looking into his partner's eyes, blushing. "I loved that retro-futuristic, tech-noire femme fatale vibe. I wanted that too. I wanted to feel beautiful and sexy just like Rachael. You know how much I love exquisite things and that it pains me how… unappealing men are expected to dress."

"Oh, dearest, I do." Damien agreed with a shrug, remembering what a nightmare shopping for men's clothes could be. Normie clothes, at least.

"My parents never suspected a thing. Though, my dad once found a Victoria's Secret catalogue under my mattress… that led to some weird father-son talks. But he had no clue I actually got off from imagining myself as the model. Then there was college. I have no idea how I managed to hide my tastes form Craig. I had to tone it down when I settled down with Alex. She was okay with it, but we agreed that if our daughter ever walks in on me in a negligee she can divorce my ass, take the kid and the house."

"I'm glad she was supportive." Damien interjected, giving his hands a reassuring squeeze.

"She was. And when she was gone I lost all interest in anything that didn't involve Amanda or work. Until we moved here and I met you."

"Such things you say…" Damien whispered softly, his mood lightening and getting more romantic.

"And hooo boy, Dames!" Vincent whistled, ruining said mood. "When Manda moved out I went wild. I mean, the first few weeks of dealing with an empty nest were hard. But one night when you were out with Lucien and I caught up with all my commissions, I realized I had the whole house to myself. No more hiding for me! I got horny drunk, pulled out my secret stash of the finest lingerie, put on some music and had the best masturbation in years!"

"That's… great." Damien assured, snickering at his boyfriend's boldness. He got used to the way Vincent spoke without any filter when comfortable with someone.

Kavinsky laid back on the couch, tension leaving his body like a bad spell. "Ughhh… Now that I told you I feel huge relief." 

"I'm glad you did. I only wish the opportunity would present itself sooner, so you wouldn't have to hide." Dames assured, sliding closer and resting his head on Vincent's shoulder.

"Honestly… I think it was a blessing that you walked in on me." There was a hint of hesitation in Vincent's voice. "I was debating whether to tell you at all." 

Hearing this Damien abruptly sat up. "But why?" He asked hurt. "You know I would never judge you on the things that make you happy!"

"I never doubted you'd be nothing but accepting and supportive. We're both pretty open-minded, non-judgmental guys. That's what made us click." 

"However?" Damien pushed the subject.

Vincent sighed, bracing himself to say something he was not sure his love would want to hear. "You know I'm not trans and certainly not a drag queen. I don't want to be a woman. And I'm ok with being feminine, but not to humiliate myself. I do this because it makes me feel pretty, sexy… And rebellious. Like a middle finger in a lacy glove, pointed straight at what is expected of me as a guy… I was thinking about coming out to you, after having some 'me' time first. But then I realized that what I am perfectly comfortable with might not work for you, given your… history." 

"That's it?" His lover blinked bemused. 

"Y-yes?"

"Vincent…" Damien sighed with a more serious tone. "I'm in my late thirties. I built my career, house and the man I am today all by myself. I'm almost done with raising my son. I know who I am. A bit of lace and nylon is not going to change that. If it weren't so late I could drive myself to the mall right now, buy myself something nice, do my hair and makeup and go on a night on the town. And I wouldn't feel any less of a man. It's just fabric and some accessories. So, your cute mesh top is no big deal to me."

"Really? We're cool?"

"Yes. I'm years past feeling uncertain about myself. I was more apprehensive about coming out to you as a normie. Just one thing…"

"What?" Vincent asked alarmed.

"Q-Lazarus? Goodbye Horses? Like in the Silence if the Lambs?" Damien's shapely brow rose with disapproval.

"D-don't judge me." Vincent crossed his arms, defensive of his taste in music.

"Vincent, the guy killed people. He wore their skin. But…" he paused, leaning closer to inhale the now not so offensive perfume. "You look so titillating that I'm willing to forgive that."

Who knows what would have happened now and then if Damien's stomach had not decided to betray him, letting out an ungodly growl.

"When was the last time you ate?" Vincent asked, his dad instincts kicking in.

"Noon… ish." Damien dodged the question ungracefully. 

"Uh-huh. And what did you eat?"

"A bagel. And coffee." Damien tried to save face, rubbing his stomach, now realizing how hungry and tired he was after a long day.

"How about I heat you something up while you take a shower? Then we can have some 'us' time."

"You are a blessing. A true gem."


	3. Chapter 3

Vincent had superb taste in shower gels. Damien couldn't decide between Cinnamon Bite and Cocoa Kiss, so he went with both, coming out of the shower smelling like a decadent dessert. He dried himself and slipped into more comfortable home attire (Vincent's sweatpants and a band t-shirt). With a smirk he combed his hair, admiring himself in the mirror. He was fortunate not to have developed male patterns of balding as a result of hormone replacement therapy, rocking a full head of dark silky hair. 

"My vanity is justified." He made an excuse at his own reflection, putting on his foggy glasses.

"Oh!" He gasped, entering the kitchen where Vincent prepared his supper. But it was not the food that surprised him. It was Vincent who transformed back into his usual everyday self - casual and relaxed. Just like Damien he was dressed in loose sweatpants and an old band t-shirt. His hair was put up in a nonchalant bun, his makeup was gone. How did he get it off? Right, kitchen sink.

"Hurry up, your food is getting cold." Vincent nagged like only a dad could.

"Dearest. This will never do." Damien protested with a dramatic sigh, sitting at the counter.

"What? My cooking?" Vincent asked both shocked and hurt. He spent a great deal of work on his stuffed bell peppers.

"Your attire!" Damien clarified, taking a bite. "Your cooking is superb, as usual."

"I thought we were done for tonight."

"But you promised some 'us' time."

"Well, I planned I'd feed you and then we'll watch 'Hidden killers of the Victorian home' in bed. You wanted to see that one."

"Vincent, the only thing I want to see tonight is you in fine lingerie." Damien assured in a sultry tone, which combined with him wolfing down on his food was more comedic than arousing.

Vincent laughed, tenderly wiping his boyfriends cheek. "Well… if you're not too tired we can fool around a bit. Dig in and I'll be right back."

"Don't you dare! Stay, I want to observe the whole ritual."

They chatted about topics that made sense only for the two of them until Damien was done. 

"Should we head to my bedchambers, Mr. Bloodmarch?" Vincent tempted, taking the dirty dishes away.

"With pleasure, Mr. Kavinsky."

They made their way to the cozier, more intimate room. Damien was dying to learn where Vincent kept his stash. If the glimpse of what he saw under the bathrobe was any indicator, Vincent was bound to have a jaw-dropping collection. 

"So… This, is where the magic happens." Vincent revealed, opening his closet, with Damien curiously peeking over his shoulder. 

The contents were nothing out of the ordinary - his everyday casual, but good quality clothes in dark, muted colors. Damien was about to inquire, but then just like in a gothic novel, Vincent pushed aside a false back panel and flipped a hidden lightswitch, illuminating a smaller space he had filled with painstakingly arranged lingerie and accessories that indeed made Damien's jaw drop. Tops, corsets, garter belts, countless panties and stockings. And the accessories! Gloves, jewelry and by god, the shoes… This was not a shameful stash of some lonely pervert. This was an exquisite collection of a refined fetishist.

"Oh my…" Damien breathed, taking in the whole display.

"I know, right?" Vincent boasted. "I think the hidden panel is a nice touch. Buddy of mine who deals in woodwork cut me a discount in exchange for making his daughter her dream prom dress."

"These are all just… You have great taste in lingerie." Damien praised, embracing his lover from behind.

"Why thank you. Now, make yourself at home and I'll… slip into something more comfortable."

Damien lounged on the bed, wishing he had a glass of wine to feel even more decadent, whilst Vincent nonchalantly pulled his pants down and his shirt over his head. For a longer moment he considered what he should wear, well aware his boyfriend was eying the curves of his back side. Damn that was a nice ass, morning jogging with Craig was paying off. 

Vincent finally made up his mind, retrieving from the closet his outfit for tonight and a small box. Without a word he sat at his computer table, placed the items on the surface, then pulled out from one of the drawers a large stand up mirror. Focusing the table light to illuminate his face, he adjusted himself on the chair, so that Damien could see his profile, and got to work.

The mystery box contained a variety makeup which Vincent used to create a softer, more delicate look. He skipped foundation, only dusting his face with powder and lightly sweeping highlighter over his cheekbones. He gave his eyes more attention, going over his eyelids with a metallic golden eyeshadow, then winged eyeliner and finally mascara. 

"Ugh, I hate this paaart…" He complained, doing his lower lashes, miraculously managing not to smear mascara under his eyes. He topped the look with subtle nude liquid lipstick, and just a touch of pencil on the eyebrows. 

He blew a kiss at his reflection like a true diva, but he wasn't done yet. His neck was embarrassingly naked, he had to fix that. A stunning, three-row pearl choker and matching dangling pearl earrings did the trick. 

He still had to get dressed for his beloved. And put on a show while he was at it. He got up and pushed the chair under the desk, for this act he had to be standing. Without hurry, as if someone was not already naked and impatiently waiting for him on the bed, Vincent slipped on a pair of sheer champagne-colored panties, making sure to give his boyfriend a good look of the full moon while he was bending over. He then proceeded to put on yet another part of stockings, this time a pair of plain ecru nylons, no seam. But without proper support, the stockings wrinkled and rolled down his legs.

"Oh bother, it seems I've forgotten something…" He mused, turning around, resting his behind against the desk. The thin fabric of his panties fit his bulging front as snug as it did his supple behind. "What on earth could I…?" He wondered out loud, undoing his hair to comb through it with his fingers.

"Tease…!" Damien hissed, already feeling himself itch and heat up with excitement. 

"Of course!" Vincent had a sudden, comically overacted, revelation. "My suspender belt! But I need some help putting it on. Care to lend me a hand, dear?"

"Gladly. Turn around please."

Vincent took the gold-trimmed garment from the desk and put around his waist, waiting for Damien to help lace it up in the back. He rested his palms against the desktop, sticking his behind out, eager for some help.

Damien got up and approached his lover. He laced up the suspender belt without much ceremonial, same with attaching the stockings. His hand wandered up and down Vincent's back, then suddenly grabbed a handful of auburn hair.

"Ah, what are you doing…!" Vincent protested.

"Dearest, you cannot perform with your hair loose and tangled like a savage." Damien assured patiently, pulling Vincent's head back by the hair. "Let me correct that." He whispered sweetly, biting into his darling's neck, his hips grinding into Vincent's shapely ass.

"Damn Dames!" Vincent's voice melted, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. He loved to feel teeth on his neck, shoulders and ears. "Yes, yes, just like that… Why did you stop?"

"To do your hair, of course."

Maintaining his confident grip, Damien reached for a hairbrush next to the mirror. But instead of combing his boyfriend's hair, he playfully spanked his behind with the hairbrush. Light enough not to cause pain, but enough make it bounce. 

"Are you okay with me going harder?" He asked respectfully.

"Tenderize me!" Vincent encouraged, overjoyed he could be so lewd and comfortable around Damien.

"My pleasure."

Several smacks later Vincent's ass cheeks were thoroughly reddened, almost as much as his face. Damien smirked, halting the sweet torture to use the brush for its intended purpose. Lovingly, he combed Vincent's hair back, then tied in a classic high bun, leaving a few strands free.

"You're so beautiful, my darling." He assured, pulling himself away from Vincent to rest back on the bed. "Now come here and show me how much you missed me." Damien tempted, spreading his legs for Vincent to see how much he missed him.


	4. Chapter 4

The bedframe creaked under their shared weight. Damien gasped under his boyfriend, kissing and being kissed with sincere yearning. Goodness, this moment was worth that whole hellish day.

Vincent's skin and the luxurious fabrics decorating it slid up and down Damien, shooting electric bolts up his heating abdomen. With growing lust he bit into Vincent's shoulder, his pelvis grinding against his lover's.

"Mmm… yes, melt in my grasp…" Vincent murmured pleased, feeling under his panties how excited and ready his boyfriend became in such a short moment.

Equally embarrassed and offended, Damien pulled him for yet another kiss, huffing like a spoiled teen.

"No…" He softly denied when Vincent's hand wandered too far up his inner thigh. "Not yet."

"Are you sure? You seem pretty ready to me." Vincent teased, rubbing against Damien.

"Kettle calling the pot black…" Damien refuted, grinding against his love's full erection, the delicate fabric the only thing separating them. "Lay down on your back. I do feel like taking the lead tonight."

"Are you going to tie me up?" Vincent asked, doing as he was told.

"Certainly not. I expect your full participation." Damien requested, getting on top.

"Oh, I'm participating alright. I'm standing at full attention." Kavinsky assured, bucking playfully, so Damien could feel all the attention he was being given.

"Darling, really… Your mouth sometimes…"

"Muffle it with yours!" Vincent dared, groping Damien's shapely behind.

"Oh, I will muffle you alright." The other muttered, crawling up on his knees to sit on Vincent's face. "I do tire of your insolence, dear. Apologize! Ooh…!"

Vincent's tongue had a very agile and lively tip, which could curl and twist at surprising angles. And with said tip he explored every detail of his beloved's anatomy, savoring his flavor and warmth. Good god, Damien always tasted so fresh and sweet. Must be the diet… Unsatisfied with how little of the divine flavor he was allowed, Vincent seized Damien's hips to pull him lower, for a better taste. Damien gasped dramatically having that nimble and curious tongue slip deeper inside. 

Vincent couldn't get any harder than this, his wet tip escaped the lacy garment, staining his abdomen. He knew his panties will need a thorough wash in the morning but he didn't care, lapping at his lover with feverous zeal. 

"Ah… Enough, enough. I forgive you." Damien whimpered when the excitement of Vincent's clever mouth was growing to be too much.

With his legs numb from the sweet torture, he slid off. Vincent's chin was all soaked with evidence of how good he was with his smug mouth. After all the kissing and licking his lipstick was still on. What brand did he use? Never mind, that was a mystery for later.

"I may have made a little mess of myself." Vincent confessed innocently, his gaze pointing below his garterbelt. Indeed, a small sticky spot formed just above the rim of his underwear, the head of the culprit peeking out from under the golden material.

"You're absolutely obscene, my dear." Damien scolded, nonetheless lowering himself to lick the offending stain off.

"Yesss… talk sophisticated to me." Vincent begged, grasping the headrest.

"Scandalous…" Damien continued, freeing the shaft out of its lacy prison. 

"Uh-uh." Vincent gulped, being stroked and licked at the tip with such cruel tenderness.

"Delicious…" Damien finally said, bowing to take Vincent in to the very base.

Vincent's hand franticly closing on his shoulder assured Damien he was doing a damn good job. He let out a low murmur, vibrating from his throat and into Vincent's shaft. They both loved that trick. Semiconsciously, he reached down to rub himself, whilst he sucked and stroked his boyfriend.

"This is going to be a short night if you keep doing that." Vincent warned through clenched teeth.

"I wouldn't dream of it." Damien replied calmly, releasing him from his devoted grasp.

Swiftly, Damien hoisted himself to mount Vincent, pausing at the most crucial moment - the tip barely pressing against his entrance. Their eyes met.

"Tell me, my dear. Did you prep?" Damien asked softly, drawing eight figures with his hips.

"I-I did plan to use some toys… y-yes." Vincent replied, stuttering from sensory overload. 

"If you promise to be good and make me come first, we can switch places and I'll take you for a nice ride." Damien tempted, slowly lowering himself. "And I'll… ahhh… yess…! Oh, just promise me and I'll do nasty things to you!" He gasped, bending back.

"Promise!" Vincent swore, the prospect of being pegged by Damien miraculously keeping him from ending the fun prematurely.

It would seem Mr. Bloodmarch wanted to thoroughly test his lover's word, as the pace he was riding him was in no way dignified, nor was the way he clenched his pelvic muscles by any means gentle. Even though he was not the one wearing lingerie and makeup he looked beautiful with his hair wild and gaze hazy. Struck by pure admiration, Vincent sat up to pull his lover for a kiss, running his fingers through Damien's slender back. 

"You're the most extraordinary man I've ever met." He confessed, nesting his cheek on the nook of Damien shoulder. "I adore you."

"Ah… I… adore you too." Damien replied, wrapping his arms tightly around Vincent. "I'm almost… there…!"

There was no sudden piercing explosion of pleasure, no crying out the other's name in passion. They were too comfortable with one another for that charade. Damien tensed for a moment, then relaxed with a blissful sigh, leaning on Vincent for support. 

"I do believe I kept my word." Vincent questioned, laying back without breaking their embrace

" Just give me a moment, dear… But you can already fetch my toy." Damien smirked, still in his happy place.


	5. Chapter 5

With great zeal Vincent retrieved the instrument from the bedside table drawer where it rested on a little velvet cushion. It was a custom, double-ended dildo made of white silicone. Damien had it molded to perfectly fit his anatomy, supporting itself in the middle on his pelvic bone. They both loved the thing so much, that an exact copy was on an exact same pillow in Damien's bedroom. 

"Shall I break put our finest lube?" Vincent inquired, presenting the toy.

"Just for the tip, please." Damien requested graciously, inserting it with a please sigh. "And would you lay on your stomach once you're done? I will take it from there."

In his excited state Vincent poured a tad too much of the substance onto the white shaft, then rolled on his belly, eagerly sticking out his behind for what was coming. 

"Take me!" He pleaded shamelessly.

"In due time. There's protocol to follow."

Unhurriedly, Damien positioned himself behind Vincent, tenderly caressing his ass. But touch and look weren't enough for him. He had to have a taste. Vincent bit into the pillow as his ass was spread wide making way for a hot, wet tongue. Damien ran it along the entire cleft, then pulled back only to stuff it inside the soft, ready pucker.

"Oooh... Keep going…! J-just go wild on me…!" Vincent pleaded, giving himself in completely.

"Wild, you say…" Damien murmured, pulling back. "I can work with that." He mused, pulling Vincent by the garterbelt to meet with the lubed up shaft.

Vincent moaned, grinding against it to lube himself up, thankful Damien would never think lesser of him for such lack of restraint. Smiling courteously, Damien allowed for the display to continue until he decided enough was enough. Gently, he took a hold of his partner's hips, motioning him to the perfect angle. Cautiously, he pushed an inch inside testing the resistance.

"Go for it!" Vincent encouraged with strain, but Damien was no fool. Unhurriedly, he pushed deeper, mindful of any sign of discomfort form his lover. None came, so he did a few more confident thrusts, until he felt Vincent can take him in to the very base. Laying flat on him, he took a handful of Vincent's auburn hair, pulling his head back so he could whisper softly into his ear.

"The thought of coming home to you was the only thing keeping my spirits up today. But I could not dream how perfect this evening would turn out."

"There's more to come. You haven't seen all of my wardrobe yet, and… and… Dames, I'm pretty close…"

"Oh my!" Damien snickered, going faster. "I would love to see your expression when you do, darling. Let's turn you over so I can have a better look of that pretty face.

They adjusted their positions, then kissed softly, with Damien holding Vincent by the ankles, thrusting with full confidence. Vincent sang praise between gasps and moans, his leaking cock bounced with Damien's every move.

"Go ahead, help yourself." Damien encouraged sweetly. "I want you to feel as good as possible."

With a relieved groan Vincent grasped himself by the cock and stroked briskly, his feverish gaze locked with Damien's. The next moment he came in short but intense streams onto his abdomen and chest, arching his back and crying his lover's name in ecstasy.

Of the two, Vincent was the dramatic comer…

"You are a hot mess, my love." Damien noted, pulling out and setting the toy aside for later cleaning.

"And you love it." Vincent replied, wiping his sticky hand on a tissue Damien offered. Miraculously, despite being hot, sweaty and covered in come, his makeup was barely smudged on the corner of one eye. "You want a beer?"

"Yes, please. Let's just have a moment of afterglow." Damien said, wiping Vincent off with more tissues, then laying next to him to cuddle. "Dearest, I wonder… Do you also enjoy dabbling in period clothing?"

"You are not putting me in a Victorian corset." Vincent grumbled, taking off his pearl jewelry. "And that is period."

Damien laughed cheerfully. They both knew that was only a matter of time.


End file.
